THE PRANK OR "The Night I Foolishly Lowered My Guard"
This is a story of erotic fiction meant for adult readers over the age of eighteen years
Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris): 31 December, 2011 - 1 January, 2012 An archive of my stories can be found at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories
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New Year's Day, 2012:
"Joshua Macklin, I find you guilty of reckless driving while under the influence of alcohol and impose upon you the maximum fine of $750. I hope this serves as a warning to you to change your ways. If you should ever find yourself standing before me charged with a similar offence, then rest assured that I won't treat you so leniently next time."
The judge's words are solemn as he delivers his stern warning to my friend, Josh, who stands at my side in the dock. Josh heaves a great sigh of relief and smiles towards his parents sitting alongside mine in the body of the court. It's true that he has been fined $750 and this is a large sum for a student soon to start his first year at university.
Josh knows that his father will pay the fine - his father is well used to clearing up after his teenaged pranks and other misdemeanours - but he also knows he'll have his ass chewed and made to repay the fine. This will of course impose some hardship on Josh, but as in the past, he'll survive and really he is getting off lightly. The magistrate could just as easily have given him a custodial sentence.
The lightness of Josh's sentence heartens me. I fully expect that I too will be treated as leniently and fined the maximum amount allowable for the charge against me. My offence differs in that I wasn't driving Josh's father's car and was just his passenger.
New Year's Eve, 2011:
Last night was New Year's Eve and Josh and I had joined with some of our friends in celebrating the end of 2011 and welcoming in 2012. It could be said that we celebrated too well. We were both inebriated!
Eventually, in the early hours of the New Year, Josh and I took out leave of our friends and drove home. I'm not sure why he did so, but Josh decided to take the long route home and we drove through the city centre. Perhaps he wanted to see the crowds still celebrating the arrival of 2012. I was tired and really wanted to get to bed and sleep off my drunkenness. But Josh was the driver and I was dependent on him to get me home.
Whatever, the reason, we joined in the slow moving convoy of cars aimlessly driving around with horns blaring and with their passengers hanging out the windows boisterously shouting to the good-natured crowds celebrating on the pavements.
It is very true that alcohol loosens our tongues and takes away our inhibitions. And to add to that it also dulls our good judgement and allows us to do foolish things we'd normally never consider. And so it was with me.
Foolishly, I responded to Josh's dare to indulge in 'mooning'. Although I was reluctant at first, I finally gave way to Josh's persuasive taunting of me being 'chicken shit afraid': I lowered by trousers and hung my bare ass out through the car window for all to see. I should have known better and this was really 'out of character' for me. But Josh's loud guffawing and the good-natured shouts of the onlookers made me even bolder. I tried to expose more of my buttocks and responded to the cheers and jeers by provocatively wriggling my ass in a cheeky greeting to the New Year.
In my drunken stupor, I'm not sure for how long I 'mooned' but I am aware that we'd twice circled through the city's centre and had just begun our third circuit when we were pulled over by an unmarked, police patrol car. Josh was ordered to pull over to the kerb and covered in embarrassment; I hastily tried to pull up my trousers. Quite literally, I'd been caught with my pants down.
We were ordered out of the car, breathalysed and found to be well over the legal limit. This was a problem for Josh more so than for me as he the one was driving. I was merely the passenger and I remember guiltily feeling relieved that he was the one in trouble and not me. How wrong I was!
After the officers had dealt with Josh and charged him with 'reckless driving whilst under the influence of alcohol', we were ordered to move into the full glare of the patrol car's headlights and told to drop our pants and to remove our underdaks. Sheepishly, we did as we were told and tried to cover our nakedness by placing our hands over our genitals.
Confused, we waited as one of the officers produced a picture which he showed to us and asked.
"Whose ass is this? Whose ass is in this picture? Turn around so we can check which of you two fuckers had his ass hanging out the window."
Suddenly, I became apprehensive. The seriousness of my 'mooning' prank finally hit home. Could these officers be members of the Morality Squad who patrol the streets looking out for breaches of our new Morality Laws?
In recent years, our society has moved further to the right under the influence of religious fanatics intent on imposing their narrow beliefs and extreme views on the general population. That they have been successful in doing this is due to the fear they engender in people. To oppose them or simply to speak out against them is fraught with danger. Those foolish enough to do so usually end up in court charged with the heinous crime of blasphemy or some other spurious, religiously concocted charge.
Under their influence our police departments now have liberally funded Morality Squads freely charged with the task of ridding our society of 'vileness and filth'. These squads patrol our city streets nightly seeking out all wrong-doers.
The Morality Squad has been spectacularly successful in driving all vices out of public view and underground where they still flourish despite the best efforts of the so called guardians of public morals. That these 'vices' do still clandestinely exist is an illustration that human nature is enduring and remains the same even under persecution.
However, this does allow these bigots to loudly boast that they have rid our society of 'prostitutes and faggots' who no longer infest our streets and corrupt 'decent folk' with their foul practices.
Nervously, I asked myself if I had I run afoul of the Morality Squad. Josh and I were ordered to lean forward and place our hands on the bonnet of the police car. This placed our upper bodies at an angle and positioned our asses for close, hands-on inspections. Humiliatingly, the younger officer pushed my shirt higher up my back onto my shoulders and my near nudity made me feel very vulnerable.
I felt hands roaming over my ass and foolishly, I turned my head to see what was happening. My ass was slapped and I was ordered to.
"Face the front, pervert!"
Now, I was very afraid. The young officer had called me a 'pervert'. This didn't auger well for me. Trembling, I listened as the two police officers talked.
"Hey, Rolly." The voice was that of the young officer. "Trying to match the picture to one of these asses is a bit like playing one of those a mix and match picture card games I played as a kid."
"OK, Mark! Well then, have you worked out which of these two young fuckers owns the ass in the picture?'
"Not yet! They both look the fricking same to me. I guess an ass is an ass after all and there's not a lot of difference between them."
"I'm not sure I'd agree with that! Since I've been with the squad I've seen a lot of ass and believe me it isn't always pretty. But these two boys have some of the nicest ass I've seen. Both have cute, bubble-butted asses - real eye candy. Give me the picture and I'll see if I match it to one of these boys."
"Rolly, why don't we just ask them whose ass it is and get the guilty one to own up?"
The young officer's question made sense. Despite my fear, I just wanted to bring an end to Josh's and my very public embarrassment. While all this was taking place, we'd been subjected to the ridicule of late night revellers making their way home. I lost count of how many passing cars had slowed down and honked their horns in derision of us. Through my confusion I heard their ribald comments and coarse laughter and I wanted to end it. And so I confessed.
"Officer, it's me! I'm sorry it was all meant as a lark. I didn't mean any harm."
The officer called Rolly was obviously the more senior of the two patrolmen and he was the one who asked me.
"What's your name boy?"
"Driscoll, Sir! Matthew Driscoll!"
"Well Matthew Driscoll, you might have meant it as a lark but you are in serious breach of the law. I'm charging you with lewd and obscene behaviour in a public place. Do you understand what I'm saying to you?"
Now I'm scared shitless! I am being charged under the new Morality Laws. I lose my composure and as tears well up in my eyes, I begin to plead with Rolly.
"Please Sir! I didn't mean any harm. Please Sir; it was a spur of the moment thing. I promise never to do it again if you'll let me go with a warning."
My pleas fall on deaf ears and are ignored. Josh and I are ordered to dress and then the younger officer handcuffs us together and we are placed in the back seat of the patrol car and driven to the central police station.
After that everything is a blur. I'm vaguely aware of Josh and I standing before a duty sergeant who charged us with our offences and told us we were to be held in custody overnight and would appear at a court sitting tomorrow morning. The sitting was to be a special 'out-of-session' one made necessary to deal with the large number of arrests made among the drunken New Year's Eve revellers.
Before we were taken down to the holding cells, the duty sergeant told us he'd phone our parents and tell them of our arrest and that we were to appear in court tomorrow morning - New Year's Day.
At the mention of my parents, my sense of shame overwhelmed me and I began to weep for the hurt I'd brought to them. They deserved better from their only son.
Josh and I were placed in an overcrowded cell where we spent arguably the most miserable night of our entire eighteen years of life. We retreated to a far corner away from the seething mass of drunken humanity with whom we shared our cell. As best as we could we ignored the shouting and the abuse of our fellow inmates and tried unsuccessfully not to notice the stench of urine and vomit that coated the floor.
Huddled together in our misery, our middle-class values were seriously challenged by all that we saw around us. Neither of us slept; nor did we talk. We waited in silent trepidation for our court appearances in a few hours' time.
For my part, I decided to apologise most profusely for my misdemeanour and to throw myself upon the mercy of the court. My remorse was genuine and I just wanted to make amends to all concerned but especially to my parents.
New Year's Day, 2012:
As I face the judge, I am heartened by the 'leniency' he'd shown to Josh. I fully expect to be fined and sternly rebuked by the judge and then released back to my parents who watch anxiously from the public gallery of the court-room.
All I want is to put my foolish New Year prank behind me and to move on from here - much chastened by infinitely wiser.
"Matthew Driscoll!"
The judge peers at me over the top of his glasses as he loudly calls out my name to gain my attention.
"Matthew Driscoll. It pains me to see a young man of your standing appearing before me charged with such a serious breach of public order."
Suddenly, the judge's words and the way he delivers them warn me that all is not going well for me. I feel a chill sweep over my body and I begin to tremble. My knees sag and I feel that I am about to collapse. Desperately, I grab hold of the dock rail and hold on with white knuckled determination.
"You stand in the dock with your friend Joshua Macklin and both of you have been charged with two most serious offences. I have already delivered my judgement of the defendant, Joshua Macklin and believe me when I say that I derived no pleasure from doing so. His offence was of such a nature that required a harsh penalty. And your offence is no less so. In fact, you are guilty of the type of reprehensible behaviour that can't be tolerated in our society and left unpunished. Quite deliberately, you chose to act in a lewd and obscene manner in that you bared your buttocks in a public place. What prompted you to act so foolishly is immaterial. Whether it was alcohol-fuelled or simply a response to a stupid challenge doesn't concern me. What matters is that you did so. Our society demands modesty from its citizens. It requires that young men remain chaste and its young women stay virtuous. The exposure of so intimate a part of your body flouts these most basic tenets of our community's standards, Therefore, I find you guilty of the most vile and lascivious behaviour. But before I pass judgment on you, I must be absolutely certain of your guilt. You will therefore remove yourself from the dock and stand before me facing the public gallery. There, you will remove all your clothing and present your back to me so that I can judge beyond a shadow of a doubt that the buttocks in the picture presented to this court do in fact, match your own. STEP DOWN!"
Even though the judge's words don't immediately register with me, I hear the audible gasp of surprise from the spectators and I hear a strangled sob - I think from my mother. But in my dazed state I can't be sure that it came from her.
Uncomprehending, I stand in the dock and hear the judge's instruction to his bailiff.
"Bailiff! Remove the defendant from the dock and if necessary help him disrobe."
I offer no resistance as the bailiff takes hold of me and leads me from the dock to a spot immediately in front of the judge's bench. He places his hands on my shoulders and turns me so that I am facing towards the public with my back to the judge.
I see my parents' anguish as my father enfolds my mother in an embrace of support and once more my tears flow for them. I have brought so much shame and pain to them and the knowledge that I, their only child, could do this to them wounds me deeply.
By comparison, I see the relieved expressions on the faces of Mr and Mrs Macklin that their son has been treated leniently. And is it my imagination but have they moved apart from my parents in an attempt to distance them from what is to follow? Is their friendship that fickle?
The atmosphere is electric in anticipation of my very public humiliation. Bewildered - and unbelieving - I stand motionless and I don't see the bailiff looking up to the judge for guidance. Nor do I see the judge nod his head but I am aware of the bailiff grabbing hold of my shirt and roughly pulling it up over my head exposing my naked, upper body to view. Quietly and efficiently he unbuttons my trousers and allows them to fall in a crumpled heap around my ankles. Then, in one swift movement he tugs my underpants down over my legs to join my trousers at my ankles.
My re-action is immediate and involuntary. Modestly, I cup my cock and balls in my hands in an attempt to cover my nakedness.
But the judge isn't finished with me and he orders me to step out of my crumpled trousers and underpants. When I have done so, he instructs the bailiff to take charge of my wrist watch and any other personal items. I wait as my watch - a present from my parents on my very recent eighteenth birthday - is removed from my wrist and placed with my clothing now nicely folded and in a neat heap on the bailiff's table.
Next, the judge tells to remove my shoes and socks - the only items of clothing I'm still wearing. To do so means I must uncover myself and use my hands. Quickly, I work out how best to do this. If I bend at the waist then my ass is on full view to the judge and even that most private and intimate part of my body will be opened to his gaze. But if I squat, I can maintain a small degree of dignity. True my ass will still be on show - but less so than if I bend at the waist - and my upper body, bent forward as I untie and remove my shoes and socks, will partly obscure my genitals. I go with the second option.
It is ironic; last night, I had no sense of modesty as I bared my all out of the car window. This morning, I am very conscious of my public nakedness and my shame scorches my body and reddens my face. Within seconds, I am as naked as the day I was born.
The bailiff orders me to my feet and once more I'm made to face the public. Shamefaced, I once more use my cupped hands to cover my cock and balls; as I do so I see my parents avert their eyes from my direction. I know they do this out of their love for me and to save me embarrassment. The same can't be said of the other spectators. I hear their scornful sniggering as the crane forward for a better look at me.
"Stand up straight with your feet together and place your hands on top of your head."
The tone of the judge's words leave me in no doubt that I must obey. Hastily, I assume the position he demanded of me and wait.
Time hangs ominously over me as I wait on the judge. With my back to him, I can't see what he's doing. If I could do so, I would see that alternatively he studies the photo used as evidence against me before peering intently over the top of his rimless glasses at my naked back. He is taking his time and the court waits on him with baited breath. Suddenly, the uncertainty gets the better of me and I begin to tremble. My body is chilled by a cold sweat and my bladder and bowels turn to water. My need to piss overwhelms me and I fight the desire to do so with every fibre of my being. I won't disgrace myself or my parents.
Silence reigns in the courtroom and in the background I hear the loud ticking of a clock counting out the seconds and minutes as we wait on the judge. To my fevered mind each tick is laden with doom. What is to happen to me? Desperately, I hope for the court's mercy.
Surely, the judge has punished me enough by publicly humiliating me in his court. Hopefully, he did this as a salutary lesson to me - and if that was his intention - then he has been successful. My remorse is boundless. Perhaps he'll impose a heavy fine just as he did with Josh and let me leave the court with my parents.
Suddenly, the judge is ready to give his findings and his words are delivered with magisterial precision.
"In my mind, there is no doubt whatsoever that the subject matter in the photograph tendered by the prosecuting police officer as evidence is a true portrayal of the defendant, Matthew Driscoll. Therefore, I find the prosecution's case proved and I find the defendant guilty."
The judge calls for silence as the courtroom erupts into a buzz of conversation. Once order has been restored he turns his attention to my friend Josh.
"Joshua Macklin, I dismiss and you are free to leave the court."
Josh moves quickly out of the dock and into the care of his waiting parents. Without a backward glance Josh and his parents hurry from the courtroom. Suddenly, without Josh's presence, I feel very alone and vulnerable.
"Matthew Driscoll, you have been found guilty of violating a Law of Morality. Do you have anything to say before I pass sentence on you?"
What can I say other that I regret my actions and apologise for them.
"Your Honour! I'm truly sorry for my offensive actions. I really am sorry and I apologise to you, this court, and the officers who arrested me and to the community at large. I apologise to my parents who I have let down very badly." I turn to face my parents and tearfully tell them. "I'm sorry Dad! I'm so sorry Mom! Please forgive me? I have learned my lesson and I will never; never do anything like this again. I promise."
"Your remorse does you credit, young man and I don't doubt that you are sorry for your foolish escapade. But that doesn't in anyway mitigate your guilt. You knew the laws concerning immoral behaviour. Yet, you deliberately chose to ignore those rules and flout convention. You are a corrupting influence in our godly society and in that society there is no place for you. I am about to remove you from the society that you held in contempt and deliver you to a place where perhaps you can consider your foolishness and contribute something back to the society whose laws you so flagrantly disregarded. And you are right when you say that you will never repeat them. The sentence I am about to give you will ensure that you will never do so. It is the maximum that the law allows for your crime. It is harsh - but necessarily so - and it gives me no pleasure in applying it to you. But the law is there to protect the innocent and punish the guilty. I have adjudged you guilty and so I must punish you to the fullest extent of the law."
My heart sinks and I know that I am in trouble. I just know the judge is to send me to prison. There is no doubt in my mind that I am to serve a custodial sentence. The question is for what duration. Will it be three months or six months? I must now wait for the judge to tell me.
"Your Honour! May I speak?"
"And you are?"
"Driscoll, Your Honour! William Driscoll. I am Matthew's father and I ask that you let me speak on his behalf."
"Usually, I don't allow such interruptions to my court's proceedings. But in this instance I'm inclined to let you speak. After all, I am a father of three teenaged boys and my sympathies are with you Mr Driscoll. Although, I should warn you, I'm not of a mind to be persuaded from my findings. But courtesy dictates that I at least listen to what you have to say."
"Thank you, Your Honour! Matthew is guilty of the offence with which he's been charged. We can't dispute that but could I just say that his actions are completely out of character. Matthew is a good boy. Civil and courteous to everyone with whom he comes into contact. I'm sure his teachers and the Minister of our church would vouch for that. He is conscientious and hardworking at school and he's due to start an IT course at university in a few weeks' time. I ask that Your Honour consider these things in deciding Matthew's punishment. Please Your Honour, Matthew is our only child and I throw myself on the mercy of the court and ask that Mathew be punished but not excessively so. A prison term would jeopardise his tertiary studies and ruin his life."
"Mr Driscoll, you argue eloquently on your son's behalf and it does you credit as a father. And it pains me that you have had to do this. But please bear in mind that my options are limited. Your son is guilty of a serious offence and the law dictates that he must be punished. I am merely the instrument of the law and it is my sorrowful duty to deliver judgement on a young man who evidently comes from a good home and loving parents. But let me put your mind at rest. I'm not about to send Matthew to prison."
My heart skips a beat and I am relieved that I'm not being sent to prison. I have read - and heard - many salacious stories of what happens to young first time offenders sent to jail. I am to be spared these horrors. For that I am grateful and all that now remains is for the judge to set my fine and allow me to dress and go home. No matter how large the fine, I promise myself that I will work hard to repay my father. As soon as the New Year's holiday is over, I will look for a part time job.
"Mathew Driscoll! Turn and face the bench!"
I turn and face the judge with more confidence than I'd felt just a few minutes ago. No doubt he'll sternly rebuke me - as he'd done with Josh - set the amount of my fine and dismiss me from his court free to return home with my parents. I know that when we do arrive home that my father will soundly chew my ass. But I don't care as my stupidity warrants his anger. I will take whatever punishment he decides upon. Whatever it is it will be well deserved. And I have learned my lesson.
"Matthew Driscoll, I have listened to your father's heartfelt plea that I treat you leniently. However it is my judgement that you are no longer fit to live in our society and should be removed from the company of decent, law abiding people. Therefore, I bestow upon you the maximum sentence that the law allows for your abominable crime. I hereby sentence you to lifelong servitude as an indentured servant. You will be taken from this court and conveyed to the court appointed dealership where you will be processed into slavery and sold at the next available auction. The clothing and other personal items you wore to the court are forfeited and will be donated to a charity for the poor and destitute. This case is now closed. Bailiff, take the prisoner to the holding cells to await transfer to .... Bailiff, who are the current court appointed agents?"
"Michelson and Hansen, Your Honour. They have the contract to process and sell all court sentenced slaves."
"Very well bailiff. I'll leave the prisoner in your hands."
The consequence of the judgement leaves me numb and I can't comprehend it. Somewhere in the fog of my confusion, I hear my mother's anguished cry of protest.
Two of the court's security guards take hold of my arms and lead me from the court. As I am taken through the door into a passageway leading to the holding cells I turn back and see my parents perhaps for the last time. My father has been stunned into silence. Ashen-faced he holds my sobbing mother in a tight, comforting embrace.
I call out to them.... "MOM! DAD! Help me, please!"
One of the guards slaps my ass and it echoes around the now empty court-room; empty that is except for my grieving parents.
"Shut it boy!" The guard tells me. "They ain't your parents anymore. You're a slave now and slaves don't have family."
Then, as I am lead down the passage way, he condescendingly pats my ass and laughingly tells me.
"Remember boy! This is what got you into trouble last night. You hung it out of a car window for others to see. Well now, as a slave, it will be on permanent display for everyone to look at. I gotta say though it's cute and worth lookin' at."
I am paying a high price for my New Year Eve's prank!